


Last Hope Infirmary Blues

by PattyPeacock



Category: Skullgirls
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PattyPeacock/pseuds/PattyPeacock
Summary: Funny how a dame named after love day can't seem to hit it off with anyone, huh?





	1. Chocoglycemia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring Valentine's relationship with the last hope a little more. She bickers with them sometimes, but hey, they're like family to her!

“Checkmate Incision!”

The barrage of scalpels came almost too fast for Valentine. Even so, a swift, upward strike with her bonesaw killed their momentum, rendering the attack useless.

“You’re as predictable as your namesake, Christmas.” Valentine grinned beneath her mask. “That attack is getting old. The scalpels may be sharp, but anyone could see them coming. Especially when you announce the attack like that.”

“Since when are you the one giving critique, Valentine?” Christmas scoffed. “Who are you to talk about seeing things coming, anyways? You have a notable lack of depth perception.”

“Shut up. I could avoid your piddling scalpel barrage if I was missing _both_ my eyes.” Valentine huffed. “You’re not exempt from criticism, nor are you the absolute authority here.”

“I am the absolute authority. But I can’t expect you to understand that,” Christmas said, tucking her drawn scalpels away, “I can’t remember the last time you did something I told you to.”

“Oi! Finish the skirmish or quit yer yappin’, lassies!” Patty spoke up from her perch on Easter’s shoulder. “Yer never gonna get nuffin’ done if ya keep runnin’ yer mouths after every attack.” Having already finished her spar with Easter, she was relaxing. Her IV Staff was abandoned lazily on the floor, an already half-chugged pint of beer resting in her hand. “I swear, you two are gon’ta be the death of me. Always at each other’s throats!”

“Hah! Maybe Val would loosen up if you put Hallow in charge of her, huh?” Easter chuckled. “She’s the only one who’ll agree to touch those creepy syringes. What’s she call ’em? Tricks?”

“Treats.” Valentine said, “I’m twice as experienced as Hallow. There’s no way in hell she’s going to be ‘in charge’ of me. Now, if you two would get back to your binge drinking so Christmas and I can continue--”

“No use.” Christmas pushed her glasses up on her nose. “The stalemate would last hours, and we only have more training tomorrow. We’ll call it a draw, Valentine.”

“Like always!” Patty interjected, sticking out her tongue.

“Except for a few isolated incidents where one of 'em left the other bleeding out.” Easter said.

“Aye! Whenever they fight, it’s a stalemate - ‘cept for when one of ‘em nearly kills the other!” Patty downed the rest of her beer in one gulp. For a scrawny thing, she could drink quite a lot. “Another pint, would ya, Esther?” She passed her empty mug down to the much larger woman, who promptly filled it and handed it back.

“Congratulations, you two have made the same observation through your beer that you make every damned week. If anyone needs me, I’ll be finding a way to productively spend my time.” Valentine holstered her bonesaw, already making the move towards her quarters.

“Aw, come now, Valentine. Don’tcha want a pint before you go off to do whatever it is ya do all by yer lonesome?” Patty offered a frosted mug and a genuine smile.

Valentine threw a steely, one-eyed glare back at Patty. “Beer,” she said, “is a bullshit, foul-tasting concoction that has as much alcohol per volume as my big toe. You can call me if you ever discover a more acceptable drink. Until then, I’ll be in my room.” With that, Valentine was off, leaving the other three alone with their surplus of beer.

“How ‘bout you then, Christmas? Up for a pint?” Patty offered the same mug she would’ve given to Valentine.

“...Screw it,” Christmas said, snatching the mug and taking a deep swig. “Sometimes Valentine makes me want to down an entire keg.”

“You do get pretty worked up whenever you scrap with her.” Easter sipped from her own mug. “If you really think she’s such a pain, why’d you make her your second in command? Why not me, or Patty? Or - Goddesses forgive - Hallow?”

“Because Valentine is perhaps the most skilled out of all of us.” Christmas said, “She rivals me - she’s the only one of you that can actually deflect my scalpels. She’s quick on her feet, knows how to be everywhere at once, studied all Brain Drain’s notes on the Skull Heart-- but she’s so insubordinate. I couldn’t make her fold a pair of socks!”

“Well…” Patty drummed her fingers on her glass, “Valentine plays by her own rules, but she’s still loyal, ya’know? You get awful worked up about her, but she don’t do much to put the operation in jeopardy. You said yerself - she rivals you in strength, and she knows everythin’ there is to know about Skullgirls!”

“Still. A team isn’t a team if one member is behaving like that.” Christmas downed the rest of her beer. “Another.”

Valentine, meanwhile, was entering her dimly-lit quarters. She didn’t actually know what to do now that training was over for the day, but there was no way in hell she’d subject herself to a drunken Christmas complaining about her “rebellious tendencies.” Honestly, she felt like she was a teenager again; Christmas was her overbearing mother, Patty and Easter her obnoxious sisters. But family was family - even if they made her want to scream.  
Turning on the light only revealed a tall, shadowy figure in the center of the room.

“Boo!” Hallow shouted, brandishing her many syringes. 

“Gah--!” Valentine yelped, stumbling backwards. “Hallow. Don’t do that. Ever again.”

Hallow chuckled. “Valerie, I thought you liked tricks!”

“No. No, I don’t like tricks.” Valentine narrowed her eye.

“Well… maybe I can make it up to you with a treat?” Hallow asked, beaming beneath her thick mask.

“If you stick me with a needle, so help me--”

“No, no. Not tonight.” Hallow stepped to the side, revealing the gift she’d left on Valentine’s bed. Inside a doofy plastic jack-o-lantern were a bottle of red wine, two glasses, and two bars of dark chocolate. “Ta-da! Your favorite.”

Valentine stared for a moment, legitimately surprised by the gesture. Indeed, there was nothing she loved more than a quiet evening with a bottle of red wine and a little dark chocolate. She couldn’t remember expressing that to Hallow, but she wasn’t going to complain. After Christmas’s bitching, this was exactly what she needed. 

“I’m impressed, Holly. You finally learned that I don’t like all that overly sweet, sugary crap.” Valentine sat down on the bed, cracking open the bottle of wine. “Close the door. I take it you brought two glasses for a reason?”

“Bingo!” Hallow shut the door with one foot, sitting right next to Valentine. “I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“Not with you.” She offered a glass to Hallow, filling it gingerly with the wine, before pouring her own. Before toasting, she pulled down her mask, revealing her scarred lips. “A toast to you and I, Holly. I’d spar with you exclusively - but that would just be proving Esther right.”

“A toast to us, Valerie.” Hallow undid her own mask, before gently clinking her glass against Valentine’s. “Out of everyone in the Last Hope… I think you’re the only one who really gets me.”

They drank. Valentine just about melted over the taste of the wine. For someone who mostly drank sugary soda, Hallow certainly had a knack for picking out a good drink. She sat in relative silence, savoring every sip of her first glass. Despite how creepy Hallow could be, her presence was far from uncomfortable. When she wasn’t flinging syringes, she could be a real sweetheart. This was only further evidenced by her unwrapping one of the chocolate bars and insistently pressing it to Valentine’s lips once her glass was empty.

Valentine took a modest bite of the chocolate, before unwrapping the second bar to offer Hallow a bite. She wasn’t really a fan of dark chocolate - but for Valentine, she’d make an exception. She took an enthusiastic chomp, not quite prepared for the bitterness. The face she pulled actually made Valentine chuckle.

“You don’t attack dark chocolate like that, Holly. I thought you were some kind of candy efficionato?” She asked, still stifling her laughter.

“It was instinct, Val!” Holly said through a mouthful of chocolate. Desperately, she swallowed the bite, visibly shuddering over it. “I don’t get how you can eat so much of this. It’s so… bitter.”

“I’m also bitter. We go together well.” Valentine put the chocolate back in the plastic pumpkin, noting that Hallow was still wearing quite the sour expression. “Oh, come on. Was it really that bad? Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?” she teased.

Hallow still nodded in response, though; she wasn’t going to say no to that. She removed her gloves before gently cupping Hallow’s cheek, pulling her in for a slow, gentle kiss. Again, they were in silence. Time itself seemed to stop as they drew closer, lips locked, eyes closed. The only ambiance was the sound of their own breathing, and this was precisely how Valentine liked it. It took quite a while for them to pull apart. Before Valentine could quip, though, Hallow spoke up. 

“I love you, Valerie.” She said, looking right into Valentine’s single eye. “You’re the candle to my jack-o-lantern. The pumpkin to my pie. The Trick to my Treat. The skeleton--”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Valentine shushed her. “I love you too, Holly. But just because your codename is a holiday doesn’t mean you have to speak entirely in dumb jokes.”

“But I can still make them sometimes, right?” Holly asked hopefully.

“Yes. Sometimes. I don’t think we’d be the Last Hope without stupid holiday puns.”

With that, their conversation came to an end. It wasn’t long before they were lying down, the bucket of treats lying neglected beside the bed. Hallow was nestled delicately into Valentine’s chest - something that didn’t surprise the latter in the slightest. It didn’t take very long for Hallow to fall asleep, but Valentine stayed awake for quite a while, arms around her lover, eye on the wall. 

She loved someone. Someone loved her. This was a thought she never assumed would cross her mind - romance had never been her top priority. But having Holly with her made worries melt away. Her heart fluttered, her head cleared, and her entire body relaxed. Again, she felt like a teenager; but in more of a good way. If the others were her obnoxious family, then Holly was her high school sweetheart. It was a bit of a stupid sentiment - but maybe it was alright for her to engage in a little sappy bullshit every once and a while. She was Nurse _Valentine,_ after all - not nurse Arbor Day.

This thought entertained her as she slowly, surely drifted off to sleep, embracing the warmth of the other woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I totally thought Val and Hallow were in love.  
> Anyways, this'll go deeper than just the Last Hope. Stay tuned, all three of ya!


	2. Medici Shakedown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during Peacock's origin story. Y'know, around that time.

Duty called abruptly and unfairly, tearing Valentine away from a good night's sleep and the tender embrace of Hallow. Her mood was instantly soured, considering the sudden lack of warmth in her arms, Christmas's tactless wake-up call, and the girlish snickering of Patty and Easter upon discovering her in the same bed as Hallow. Her "obnoxious sisters" theory was entirely solidified by the ineffably annoying tittering. Nevertheless, she was up and ready before too long. Hopefully, focusing on the task at hand would distract _everyone_ from what just happened - even if she still insisted on sitting just an inch or two away from Hallow during the briefing. 

The rarely-seen Brain Drain was actually present to map out information for the Last Hope - a surprising change. According to his evidence, a Medici warehouse on the edge of town was holding far more than just weapons. Countless child refugees from Rommelgrad were being held their against their will, to eventually be sold off to any wealthy landlords with the right connections. Naturally, this had the Last Hope up in arms. Even Christmas was ready to leave off the bat, willing to plot out a plan of attack on the way. But Brain Drain was quick to insist that this strike be carried out in the dead of night, with the Last Hope tasked with primarily the recovery of the refugees. The bulk of the fighting would be taken care of by Anti-Skullgirl Lab Eight.

Lab Eight, headed by the non-confrontational Doctor Avian, had always been an interesting topic of conversation in Lab Zero. Avian had a highly skilled group of scientists at his disposal, but his products were questionable. Two rather young volunteers - codenames Leduc and Hive - were outfitted with unique synthetic parasites that expertly increased their fighting abilities. But Avian's brilliance truly shined through Big Band, one of his first "salvation" projects. He took some battered, dying cop straight out of the iron lung and gave him new life as a one-man band; or, in the eyes of his enemies, a one-man army. At the very least, Christmas liked him. They thought alike.

Their plan was settled quickly. They'd roll out at midnight, using the element of surprise to their advantage. Of course, they'd focus primarily on getting the children to safety - but any hostiles that immediately stood in the way of that would be taken care of. Not that anyone was complaining; it was accepted among the ASG Labs that the only good Medici was a dead one.

When the time actually came for the Last Hope to strike, Brain Drain wasn't present. He instead monitored them telepathically, communicating through their radios. Each member of the Last Hope was highly trained in stealth - including tanklike Easter - so actually infiltrating the warehouse wasn't the hard part. A quick observation from an upper walkway gave Christmas a decent chance to plot their next move out.

"Alright," she said, dead quiet, "Patty and Easter, you take the right side of the building. I've checked twice - there's three hostiles, all armed. Strike swiftly, do _not_ let any of the children out of your sight. Valentine, Hallow, you'll take the left side. Four hostiles, three with firearms, one with a bat. Again, we're getting in and out with the refugees as quickly as possible. No dawdling. I'm looking at you, Valentine - you're _this_ close to the naughty list."

Valentine took a moment to look over the crowd before she answered. "...You can't expect me to just carry them out. Christmas, look at them - some of them have injuries that need immediate treatment."

"Time is of the essence, Valentine. Will you listen to me for once?" Christmas grumbled, "We'll treat them all appropriately once they're all in safety and Lab Eight has moved in."

"The children with broken limbs will urgently need splints. Open wounds need to be immediately shut. I'll have plenty of time before Medici backup arrives - how can you possibly tell me not to treat injured children?" Valentine snapped.

Christmas sighed, taking one more brief look over the floor. They'd yet to be spotted. "Alright. You're generous, Valentine... the children will be thankful. But move as fast as you can."

"Thank you." Valentine nodded. With a quiet nodded. 

"Aye, I was wonderin' why ya brought yer medical bag in with ya..." Patty noted the bulky bag at Valentine's side.

"Hey, enough chit-chat!" Easter said, "Let's crack a few Medici skulls and save those poor kids, alright?"

"Right." Christmas said. "I'll be picking off stragglers and helping escort children out. Good luck, all of you."

And thus, they split up. Patty and Easter had no problem on their side of the building. Nimble Patty fought two gunmen off with her IV Staff, while Easter charged the third down, leaving Christmas to corral the children. Valentine and Hallow, meanwhile, worked differently. While Hallow instantly got the drop on her targets, jabbing them with a wide array of colorful Treats, Valentine was quick to get to work with the injured children. Most of them had sustained injuries that wouldn't be fatal - a broken limb here, a deep gash there. But one girl, abandoned in the corner of the room, made Valentine's stomach turn.

She didn't look older than thirteen, covered poorly by a tattered maid's outfit. The sick bastards had chopped off her arms and legs, and, from the looks of it, gouged her eyes out. This was no elegant job, either - it was like they'd clumsily sawed each limb off at the base with a dull saw. Despite how sickened she was, Valentine was quick to move in. 

"Little girl? Little girl, can you hear me?" She asked, instantly cutting off circulation to the massive, open wounds.

"Muh... Muh-ree..." the girl weakly gurgled, revealing she'd also had her teeth bashed in. This was low - even for the Medici.

"Hold still. This might pinch. But things will be alright very, very soon..." Valentine mumbled, unsure if she was telling the truth or not. But she got to work in an instant, doing her best to repair the damage done, but it was almost useless. At this point, she wondered if keeping her alive would only be torturing her further? She looked like a textbook casualty of war. But, still - part of her couldn't just abandon a child in a puddle of her own blood. 

In the time it had taken her to care for that one girl alone, the others had finished their tasks. According to Brain Drain, mob backup was on the way. Lab Eight was already moving in from the rear to eliminate straggling Medici and prepare for the onslaught. Hallow, with a few Treats in hand, came to deliver the same message to Valentine. But, much like her lover, she was stopped dead in her tracks by the sight of the girl - even though she was now bundled tightly in bandages. 

"Goddesses above!" Hallow gasped, "They did that to a child?"

"They're the Medici." Valentine muttered, "Of course they did."

"Do-- do you need my help carrying her out? Do you need me to sedate her? Oh, it's worked wonders on the others..."

"You've been sedating the children?" Valentine raised a brow. 

"Only a few! You know, the one or two with broken legs that you gave splints..." Hallow cleared her throat. "Here, take a few sedative Treats - they'll come in handy in case you run into any more goons, or a child you need to get out quick." She dropped a few bright red syringes into Valentine's medical bag. 

"...Thank you, Hallow. I'm going to do another comb of the premises before Lab Eight barges in here - just to make sure they haven't hidden any more injured children like this." Valentine stood up, holding the child in her arms, careful not to jostle her. "You can go ahead - tell Christmas I'll be out shortly. Lab Eight can proceed as normal."

"Good luck, Valerie." Hallow said, sparing a quiet, loving glance before making her exit. 

This left Valentine alone, the slowly dying child in her arms. Setting her down on a nearby crate, she moved as fast as she could, searching every nook and cranny for any sign of life. The last thing she wanted was for some child to die alone in a Medici storeroom. She searched fruitlessly for some time, until she caught a glimpse of a figure in the darkness, down a long corridor - shivering and alone. Another refugee? No; as her eyes adjusted, she could just barely make out the figure's attire from behind. She looked like a student from the local high school, dressed in the appropriate uniform. Her observation lasted until a distant double-door burst open, the clang accompanied by a loud, familiar tune on the world's largest saxophone. 

"Leduc, flank right! Hive, flank left!" Big Band ordered, "Check to see if they've moved in here yet." He was followed by two parasite-wielding ASG Soldiers, each of them charging in a different direction. He himself stormed in, producing a melody as he rocketed across the ground - only stopping when he saw Valentine dashing back towards her patient.

"Forensics? You're still in here?" Big Band asked, "I appreciate the help and all, but we got this. You worry about the kids that y'all got out of here. The Doc says he'll take a look at all of 'em, make sure he finds places for 'em to stay."

"...That's the thing, Birdland." Valentine gestured quietly to the little girl sitting on the crate.

Ben gasped, the noise registering as a sour note on several different instruments. "Guys! There's still a little girl in here!" He stomped over, scrutinizing the battered child with wide, mortified eyes. "They really did a number to her. Damn..."

"I did all I could to keep her alive, but," Valentine looked down and away. "I'm wondering if there's a point. The damage seems irreparable - she could just be a casualty of war."

"Oh no. I'll let Doc Avian be the judge of that." Big Band said. "Put her on my back and I'll run her out with the rest."

Valentine obeyed, setting the poor girl neatly on Big Band's back, nestled snugly against the saxophone neck that jutted from its center. 

"Hold on, kid... you're about to see-- uh, _meet_ a real miracle worker." Big Band said, getting a move on.

"...ha..." The girl managed. 

With Leduc and Hive moving upwards to stalk the upper walkways, Valentine was free to make a mad dash towards the figure she saw before Big Band rushed in. Indeed, the girl was still there, still shivering. She hadn't moved an inch. Quietly, Valentine approached her, trying not to make herself seem too imposing. "Hello..? Don't be scared. I'm here to help."

The girl turned around in a flash, wide-eyed and startled - but she didn't say a word. She tensed, remaining firmly in place. 

"You must've been caught in the crossfire, but... what on earth where you doing here?"

Again, she got no reply. 

"Alright. Well, stand still - I'll give you a little check-up to make sure nothing hurt you, alright?" Valentine got no opposition from the girl, terrified as she was. Thus, the process began. The girl hadn't sustained any injuries, but her heart was pounding like a mouse's. "Can you tell me your name, at least? To help me get you home?"

It took her a while, but the girl managed to stammer, "Carol. I'm Carol."

"Carol. That's a pretty name," Valentine smiled politely beneath her mask. "Now, I'm just going to test a little bit of your blood, then I'll take you right home. You'll feel a little pinch, but I promise, it's not that bad." It seemed her skills in being an actual nurse were as high as her skills in combat. She actually managed to calm Carol down, making this process a lot simpler. From her medical bag, she pulled a small device of Brain Drain's design, with which she pricked Carol's finger. The reading was nearly instantaneous - there was nothing wrong with the girl's blood. However, it was a perfect match for Brain Drain's ideal test subject; one that would flawlessly adjust to his synthetic parasites, and the sample of the Renoir Skullgirl's blood.

Valentine hesitated for a moment, before standing up. "Carol, just stay here for a second while I radio the rest of my team. We'll get you right home."

"Thank you, Miss, um..."

"Valentine."

"Thank you, Miss Valentine." Carol offered a nervous smile.

Valentine stepped down the corridor, just out of earshot, adjusting her radio for one-on-one conversation with Lab Zero's director. "Brain Drain. There's a girl here, not a refugee - she's exactly what you're looking for, but--"

"Good." Brain Drain said. "Bring her to me."

"But she's just a child, Brain Drain. I don't think she'd be able to handle the kind of experiments you've planned." Valentine cautioned.

"Valentine, we don't have much time," Brain Drain grumbled, "we can't waste any by asking politely or worrying about the subject's level of comfort. You know what the last Skullgirl did. Forget the Hippocratic oath; the world is on the line. I expect to see this girl by the time you return to Lab Zero. Don't disappoint me, or there _will_ be consequences." With that, the radio abruptly cut to static, leaving Valentine to stare into the darkness before her.

She slowly approached Carol, unable to bring a smile back onto her face. "Alright," she said, reaching quietly into her medical bag, "the rest of my team is waiting outside. We'll get you right home." Firmly, she clasped her fingers around one of Hallow's sedative treats. This was it; there was no going back. She walked closer at a snail's pace, the syringe hidden behind her back.

"Really?" Carol turned around. "Thank you, Miss Valentine." Again, she flashed a million-dollar smile, making this infinitely harder for Valentine.

"You're very welcome, Carol." Valentine shut her eye, taking a deep breath, and steeling her nerves. Abruptly, she swung the syringe forward, driving it right into the girl's back, giving her the full dose. Before she could scream, she covered her mouth firmly with her spare hand. "Just relax, now. Count down from ten and it'll all be over soon." Valentine held the squirming girl still until she went limp, her eyes fluttering shut, her legs giving out.

Quietly, she slung her over her shoulder, re-adjusting her radio. "You can head back home without me. I'll be there in due time."

"Valentine," Christmas's voice crackled from the radio, "All the refugees are accounted for. You don't need to stick around. Report to me immediately." 

"I said I'd be there in due time, Christmas. Don't get your stocking in a twist." Valentine sighed, moving quietly down the hardly-lit corridor. "Just don't wait up for me."


	3. Cruel Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet chapter. Carol's about to become Painwheel. I'm so so sorry.

The waiting was the hardest part. If Valentine could just get this over with, then everything would go by a lot smoother. But, no, she was forced to stare at her blank canvas, who’d barely begun to wake up on the operating table. Carol was a pretty girl - she looked almost peaceful, despite being strapped onto what could very well end up being her deathbed. But as soon as she regained her consciousness, that tranquility was gone. The first thing Carol noticed was her complete immobility. The more she struggled, the tighter the straps around her wrists and ankles became; and yet, she still thrashed and screamed, begging for help from whoever was listening.

“Help!” she cried, “Help, please, let me go! I’ll do anything! I pr-promise, I won’t even tell anyone!”

“Stop.” Valentine said, putting a firm hand on Carol’s shoulder. “Struggling will tighten your restraints and make what’s going to happen even more painful."

“M-Miss Valentine,” Carol remembered the face looming above her, “please don’t hurt me. I don’t-- I don’t know what I did, I’m sorry, just please, please let me go home…”

“You know I can’t do that.” Valentine looked her over, trying her damnedest to steel her nerves. “But I can promise you that you’re going to be part of something great. Wouldn’t you like to help your kingdom? The world?” she asked.

“I want to go home! My mom and dad are going to be worried sick about me!” Carol continued to struggle, despite Valentine’s warnings.

"Stop. Stop it.” Valentine cautioned. “Dammit, what did I tell you? You’re not making things any easier for yourself."

“Please,” Carol sobbed, her breathing growing heavy and erratic, “I d-don’t want to be here. I don’t want to get cut open. Miss Valentine, you-- you s-seemed so nice, at the warehouse, I know you don’t really want to hurt me!” she cried, in a desperate appeal to emotion, “Please, just let me go!”

Valentine’s expression softened as the young girl broke down. The display could drive anyone to tears, but Valentine had done her best to resist that. With a slow, weary sigh, she brought a hand forward, running it through the sobbing girl’s hair. This was the best attempt to calm her down she had. The only thing that would really help would be setting her free, but there was no way in hell she could do that. She sat in silence for a moment, gently stroking Carol’s hair, before gently taking one of her tremulous hands.

“Of course I don’t want to hurt you,” Valentine said, “but I have to. This is for the good of the world, Carol.”

“No-- no!” Carol began thrashing again. “No, please, please please please, please!” she screamed, breaking down all over again.

Valentine’s heart was pounding. She backed away slowly as Carol begged and cried, screaming for mercy until her throat was raw. Of course she knew this was wrong - who wouldn’t? But it was for the greater good. Brain Drain had insisted time and time again that his combination of synthetic parasites would craft the ultimate ASG unit - a force that could detect a Skullgirl near-instantaneously and eliminate her before she became too much of a threat. Carol was, unfortunately, a perfect fit for the technology. With the next Skullgirl’s arrival getting closer by the second, there really wasn’t any other option, was there? That’s what Valentine told herself, trying to rationalize what she was about to do. But it proved quite difficult, each scream wearing her down more and more until she reached a breaking point.

“Dammit, Brain Drain! Get in here so I can sedate the patient! We don’t have all day.” she shouted across the lab.

Brain Drain slowly floated in, a large, intimidating case levitating beside him. “Shouting isn’t going to get you anywhere, Valentine. I take it you’ve properly restrained the patient?”

“Yes, o’ wise director, I had her bound half an hour ago.” Valentine hissed. “May we proceed with the operation?"

“Very well.” Brain Drain said flatly. With a wave of his hand, the case split open, leaving his two latest creations hovering in midair. A tangle of wires led up to a set of four gigantic blades, held together by an intimidating metal skull. Beside it, held in a large glass container, was a writhing mass of near-liquid metal - always moving, never still. “The Buer Drive,” he gestured to the blades, “and Gae Bolga,” then to the metal. “My finest work yet.”

“Alright, stroke your ego when you’re off the clock. Carol, count down from ten.” Valentine readied one of her gas canisters, edging the mask closer to a still squirming Carol.

“No.” Brain Drain stopped her. “We’ll be approaching this my way, Valentine. I’ll be in charge of sedation.” Carefully setting the parasites on a nearby metal table, he drifted just behind Carol’s head, settling down on his feet. The girl continued to scream, but Brain Drain - entirely detached from human emotion - was not moved in the slightest. “You’re advised to remain still,” he said, bringing his hands forward. Long, impossibly sharp needles ran slowly across the girl’s forehead, chilling her to the bone. She continued to beg, but he still wasn’t flinching. 

“You may feel a little pinch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took ten years to write, and this chapter's... maybe a little unnecessarily painful, I'unno. Not really proud. But there's more to come! We'll get the full Valentine story. But yeah, sorry to Carol Babygirl.


End file.
